A World of Changes
by KRRouse
Summary: Shortly after the meeting of the Brethren in Shipwreck City, Ragetti feels miserable, Pintel wishes things could go back to normal, and Elizabeth finds herself caught in the middle of it. A companion to my other story “Just the Way it Should Be.”


(Disclaimer: I do not own Pintel, Ragetti, Elizabeth, or the prison dog. Or the entire Caribbean for that matter.)

**A World of Change**

Ragetti was growing uncomfortable with this place.

Shipwreck Island. That was what Sparrow'd called it. This giant collection of ghost ships that were heaped together in the middle of a desolate lagoon, never to sail again. It was like the ruined vessels were taunting the one-eyed pirate, making him think he was on another voyage when he was really going nowhere at all. Ragetti hated staying in the same place for too long, and Shipwreck Island's misguiding atmosphere was rubbing that dreadful situation in his face at every waking moment. The lanky man frowned as he heard another creaking sound above him, then reached up to adjust his eye patch once again. He hadn't missed wearing that itchy old thing very much.

Another creak suddenly interrupted Ragetti's dreary thoughts, and he immediately turned on his bench to glower across the deck at its source. He didn't bother saying anything to his unwelcome visitor; the stupid mongrel didn't understand English anyway.

The little dog blinked up at its former travel companion, oblivious to his disgust, then cheerfully trotted closer to him. All the while, the new ring of keys that Captain Teague had given the mutt were jingling loudly, prompting the unpleasant knot in Ragetti's stomach to grow even bigger.

"No you don't. No no no." He made a shooing motion with his hand and inched back on the bench. He hadn't exactly missed Poochie either. "Get. Go that way."

The dog responded by calmly placing the keys at Ragetti's feet and gazing up at him. There wasn't a hint of distrust in those shiny brown eyes—only playfulness as it recognized the man's scent and rubbed its nose against one of his bony knees. Its human acquaintance, however, would have no part of this, and promptly shoved the poking gray snout aside.

"I said get! I don't want your bloody keys no more." Ragetti kicked at the metal trinkets for emphasis, then moved even further away from the pesky animal.

A short distance away, concealed by the shadowy cabin entrance, Elizabeth Swann observed the curious scene with puzzlement. It'd been odd enough to find the prison dog here of all places—although she'd gladly welcomed its reminder of Port Royal—but this stand-offish encounter with the otherwise mild-mannered Ragetti was particularly strange to her. Another moment passed, and then Miss Swann herself was being observed from behind by a third party.

Pintel kept his distance as he gazed at the young woman. It seemed like only yesterday that he and Rags had dragged her out of that pantry and onto the _Black Pearl_ as a captive. She'd been hardly more than a girl then, and still was, but she was now the most powerful person that Pintel had ever laid eyes on. In less than a moment, Poppet had been elected the pirate king, and although the stocky buccaneer was still failing to wrap his mind around it, she was in fact a ruler. Squaring his jaw, Pintel edged his attention away from Elizabeth and bleakly observed the situation with Ragetti. That at least was a more familiar disenchantment…

"He used to like 'em," the old pirate murmured finally. Elizabeth turned at the sound of his voice, unaware that Pintel'd been standing behind her. He continued glumly. "Dogs. Always going up to 'em, barking at 'em…You'd've bloody 'fought 'e _was_ one 'imself if you'd ever seen 'im."

"What happened?" the girl asked quietly.

Pintel looked away at that. "Don't right know. Truf' be told, I never really understood Rags. Not entirely. …'E's got a troubled mind. 'Is childhood weren't quite the way it should be for most lads, saying the least." The man shrugged awkwardly. "Always kinda' figured 'e warmed up to dogs 'cause they was the only ones what ever warmed up to 'im." Pintel paused for another dreary moment before looking over at Ragetti again. "But then we met old Poochie there…"

"In prison," Elizabeth finished.

Pintel felt a lump rise in his throat, but nodded. "…Aye. In prison."

Out on the deck, Ragetti made a frustrated grunt as he swiped an unfriendly arm at the dog. Now he was trying to scare it away. From their secret viewing spot, Pintel couldn't help but keep his eyes on the younger man.

"I fink bein' in there 'ad somefin' to do wif it. You'd prob'ly hate _anybody_ for standin' on the other side of those bars, danglin' the keys in yer face. Yeh'd prob'ly even hate them just for _bein' _on the other side. I 'fought if we got out of prison, Rags'd go back to bein' his old self, but…" He jabbed a reluctant elbow in his thin companion's direction. "Well, there you sees 'e didn't."

Elizabeth nodded, understanding. "I can't apologize for getting you put in prison," she replied softly. "You both know you put yourselves there."

Pintel suddenly found a clear voice at that point. "I ain't askin' for an apology, Poppet. And Rags wif 'is _great_ _religious awakenin'_ don't fink we deserves one anyways. It's just…" He averted his gaze for a final second before locking it with the new pirate king's. "…I want an answer. Yeh know?"

Elizabeth blinked, not comprehending. "An answer to what?"

The bald man lowered his head warily then, and after a long silence, he had his baneful thoughts together and spoke. "How'd it all come to this? I mean, what 'appened to the days when piratin' was piratin', b'fore all these crazy curses and chests crawled out of the woodwork and changed everyfing? I used to fink starin' down a _cannon barrel_ was terrifyin', and now I'm bein' chased around the world by a devil who's sproutin' tentacles for a beard! We's sailin' under the command of two undead captains, we got a sea goddess trapped in human form locked up in the hold of our ship, and now Rags is takin' swings at dogs! I just can't bleedin' make sense of anyfing anymore!"

Pintel had spoken his last few complaints a little louder and with much more frustration than he'd meant to, and his weathered face no longer tried to conceal its troubled expression. Elizabeth looked at him with an equally long silence as she tried to take in his unexpected vent. She'd never expected to have such a conversation with Pintel a year ago, and had certainly never thought he'd willingly initiate it himself. But time had seemed to change their outlooks on each other, forcing a reluctant bond and creating a stronger understanding between them. Indeed, the entire crew of the _Black Pearl_ had experienced a world of changes, though most of them had been for ill. Those kind of changes seemed to be the only kind left these days, and Elizabeth had drearily decided long ago that she'd never be able to make any sense of it.

At last, she quietly gave her answer. "Neither can I." She lowered her gaze to the floor, not wanting to meet Pintel's eye. "…I _am_ sorry for that."

Behind her, the older man barely made an attempt to hide his dejection. Pintel frowned and sagged his shoulders slowly. "…Fanks…" He glanced at her again, and a hint of sarcasm dribbled into his tone. "…Your _highness_."

With that, he turned and stalked away, no less reassured than he'd been a minute ago.

Alone once more, Elizabeth continued to watch Ragetti. The scrawny man was still trying to avoid the dog, this time by ignoring it; he had his legs drawn up in front of him on the bench and was staring straight ahead as the little hound began barking. He seemed coldly adamant in his decision to not like the creature, and beyond convincing to do otherwise.

But just then, something else dawned on Elizabeth. Every terrible thing that had happened—Beckett's takeover of Port Royal, the capture of Will, and even the cowardly murder of her beloved father—had happened because no one had done anything to prevent it. Was the world really becoming so resigned to tyranny that it'd completely forgotten how to oppose it? People had lost their abilities to cope with the pain of change; that was why Pintel felt so lost right now, and that was why Ragetti was acting this way.

Elizabeth tilted her head as she studied the thin man. Perhaps all of those ill changes could be reversed. It wouldn't be entirely impossible. Will, Jack, Barbossa, the Pirate Lords, even crotchety old Pintel…they could all find a way to make things right; they only needed to see that the odds weren't entirely stacked against their favor. And who better to prove it than the person they now considered their leader? One small effort was all it would take to show them a difference could be made.

Decided, Elizabeth lifted her shoulders and went forward.

Just as she did so though, Ragetti finally decided that he'd had enough of the pesky dog. He looked nastily down at the keys again, then to their furry keeper. The pirate leaned forward slightly, and a false friendliness crept into his voice.

"Hey boy. You wanna play? Aye?" His bony fingers wrapped around the key ring and lifted it. "Wanna play fetch? Fetch, boy?"

The dog's gray tail was wagging ecstatically at this apparent change in Ragetti's mood. The human was grinning back at it now, but the little animal was far too excited by this to notice the obvious lie reflecting in that one bright eye. Seeing just how ignorant his four-legged observer was, Ragetti instantly dropped his friendly disguise and lobbed the keys away, towards the rail of the wrecked ship. "_Fetch!_"

The metal objects sailed through the air, gleaming momentarily in the dim lantern light—and landed perfectly in Elizabeth's outstretched palm with a muffled clink. She gazed down at Ragetti skeptically, a bit surprised by what he'd just attempted to do, yet still composed. In turn, the scrawny pirate gawked worriedly up at her stiff face with a single bulging eye. A tense second passed, then Elizabeth lowered her hand and crossed the distance to the bench. Ragetti shied away as she carefully sat down beside him, and he stared down at his feet with guilt. His hands began to fidget in his lap.

Elizabeth saw this and couldn't help but smile—Ragetti was just as nervous around her as when they'd first met. "Oh come now, there's no need to be timid around me," she said reassuringly, trying to cross another, unseen barrier. "After all, Pirate King's hardly more than a title."

Ragetti twitched his head slightly to glance at her through the corner of his eye. "Pirate _Queen_," he mumbled back.

She smiled again at the appropriate correction, then held up the keys and jingled them beckoningly. The former prison dog let its pink tongue flop out of its mouth at the familiar sound, and trotted up to her without a thought. Elizabeth calmly placed the keys back in the animal's mouth and patted its head. Then she turned her attention back to a sullen Ragetti.

"You know he's given you his keys before this. Most pirates don't get that compliment from him even _once_."

The man finally met her eyes again, and shook his head after a wary pause. "Guess not."

They both looked down at the dog.

Elizabeth searched for a word of encouragement. "They're not the only ones who warm up to you anymore, but they _are_ still loyal companions. Man's best friend." She'd arched her eyebrows as she'd offered the popular notion. "Dogs aren't ones to hold grudges or hurt others personally. All they ever want is to be happy, and to share that."

Ragetti's dreary look became internal. "They're better than people," he translated.

"_Different_," Elizabeth corrected kindly.

"Different ain't exactly doin' much for me right now, 'Lizabef." Ragetti reached up to adjust his itchy eye patch again. "And too much of anyfing ain't never good for you."

She shrugged passively. "Well there's always room for a few good changes."

When she said this, Ragetti stopped rubbing his patch. Another hush seized the two of them at that point, and the uncomfortable feel of it somehow prompted him to study his hairy acquaintance. The pirate's hands were still fidgeting impulsively, but after one more second of hesitation, he reached out reluctantly to scratch behind one of the dog's perked ears. The pooch yipped approvingly and jerked its head around, licking his hand gratefully.

Ragetti stopped and pulled back slightly. Now that mongrel was pushing its luck. His hand remained hovering indecisively for another brief moment, then finally admitting something to himself, he listlessly placed it back on the dog's head and resumed scratching at that scraggly fur. Poochie responded by hunching its shoulders and panting in content silence. As this went on, Ragetti's fingers started moving faster, wandering over to the other twitching ear to rub it as well.

He glanced at Elizabeth absent-mindedly and saw she was still watching him. Then he continued to fiddle with Poochie's ear.

Funny. This was starting to feel right again.

--

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(A way to further explain where Ragetti got his determination to free Calypso. He's taken on that dog mind again, and in Elizabeth's words, he wants to share the happiness of being free with Tia Dalma.)


End file.
